About About Face
by SaintAugustana
Summary: Palmer wasn't alone in that car when he trailed the NCIS team to the crime scene. Warning: spanking/corporal punishment. Don't like that? Don't read this. Tag to episode "About Face".


**About-About Face - tag to the episode "About Face" - which you will need to see for this to make any sense whatsoever.**

**Begins when Palmer pulls into the trailer park.**

...

Jimmy Palmer pulled the car around to the curb and slowed to a parked position, watching from a distance as Gibbs and team investigated the alleged mobile home of the alleged parking garage shooter.

He was jumpy, anxious, on alert, yet unfocused.

"You're crazy, Palmer."

The voice in the backseat caused him to jump and yelp slightly out of surprise when Joey emerged from the floorboard and hopped into the front seat.

Jimmy put a hand on his racing heart, as if trying to calm the organ down.

"Damn it, Joanne, don't do that!"

"First of all, kid, it's Joey, and second of all," she shot Palmer a look of reproof, "you do know that Gibbs is gonna have your a-"

But she didn't get to finish as it was her turn to jump, startled, when Gibbs rapped hard on the window.

...

The ride home from NCIS was so silently intense Joey was nearly 100 sure the car was going to explode or something from the pressure of Gibbs' rising temper and thus far bottled up what-the-hell-were-you-thinking yells.

And of course, like always when the kid was in trouble, they reached the house all too quickly. Gibbs parked the car (pulling it to a halt so abruptly it left black skid marks on the street) and got out briskly. Joey followed quickly, all stoic resolution in her quickly dissolving.

She shuffled along behind him, hands in her pockets, as he led her up the sidewalk to the porch.

He opened the door and pushed her firmly inside the house.

"Upstairs." He commanded, nudging her towards the stairs.

She turned back when she reached the landing. "Gibbs, I'm-"

He silenced her with a look and pulled her back by the collar.

"You're going the right way for having the same discussion we'll have tonight every day this month." His tone was dangerously low.

She swallowed a wad of saliva.

"Upstairs. NOW!" he shouted, sending her upstairs with a forward smack to the seat of her jeans.

...

Gibbs draped his trench coat across the back of a barstool in the kitchen and collapsed into a sitting position on the living room couch.

He scrubbed both hands over his face, engaged in internal combat with himself.

_Damn._

The little imp had gone and done it again. Again! This wasn't the first time she had snuck into company vehicles to see crime scenes. Gibbs had understood her 9-year-old curiosity the first time and duly warned her

(by way of a few well-timed swats) against doing it again. Then he let it go. Then she did it again. That time he really spanked her for it. She was 10 then. She'd done it a couple more times after that. Got spanked for both. Promised never to do it again when Gibbs promised that the next time it would be a spanking and a strapping.

_Should I do it?_

That was a harsh threat, he couldn't deny. But she had gone and done it again, and this time it wasn't a crime scene. It was a blatant throwing of herself into the line of fire, into danger. _And she should know damn well by now that's not acceptable._

Joey was just about to turn 13 in a couple weeks.

_Definitely not acceptable._

...

Upstairs, Joey had dumped her jacket and t-shirt on the floor and was pacing anxiously in socks, jeans, and a white undershirt from her bathroom, to the bed, to the bookshelf, and back again. She tried to read, but she couldn't. Outside, she was physically calm. It wasn't the spanking she was dreading. It was Gibbs.

_He's pretty pissed._

Finally she fell back on her bed and groaned.

Took a minute to curse her stupidity, convince herself that it really_ was_ worth it to disobey him and see Palmer in all his glory (when, in actuality, she was convinced it wasn't, wasn't, wasn't) and finally pulled herself up to a sitting position.

She felt the silence again. The proverbial sting of tears threatening to fall. (_Damn, I'm not even there yet and I'm already crying.)_ She rubbed a thumb over the cool silver metal of the dog tags around her neck.

"JOEY, GET DOWN HERE!" Gibbs shouted from below.

Inhaling deeply and sighing heavily, she stood and crept off down the stairs.

...

Gibbs was standing in the center of the living room, arms folded over his chest. He'd relaxed a bit, she noticed. Untucked his shirt and taken off his suit jacket. Joey stopped tentatively at the base of the stairs. He pointed to the spot in front of him and she shuffled over, head down at the carpet.

"Look at me."

Joey looked up, licking her lips nervously.

"Was it worth it?" he asked, oddly calm.

A pause.

Joey battled with herself for a moment and the wall of steely resolve finally cracked.

She swallowed, not wanting to admit the truth.

"...no, sir." She whispered, thinking back to the last time she'd done this and what he had threatened he would do to her if she did it again. _Next time you do something that stupid, you'll be getting that plus a strapping. You hear me?_

Gibbs had moved away from her. She hadn't noticed. Joey looked up.

He threaded his belt out of its loops and gestured for her to bend over his leg, which was up on the low coffee table.

_Crap, he's gonna whip me first._

She felt the burn already, but stepped forward in what she hoped seemed like an act of cooperative courage.

She lifted her arms over his leg and bent over, head buried in her arms, suddenly and fleetingly grateful he wasn't making her take her jeans down.

Gibbs felt a pang of sympathy and lightly touched the back of her head. She relaxed a bit, involuntarily.

He was skipping the riot-act-reading.

The first lick smacked down on her backside.

The second smack landed directly on top of the first, reigniting the fire that grew with each succeeding strike of the leather.

Joey winced for the first, cringed for the second, and then let out a whimper.

**SMACK "**I don't know what the hell you were thinking **SMACK **but this is going to end here and now. **SMACK **You can't keep running off to lalacrimesceneland **SMACK **just because you want to." **SMACK**

She wanted to throw her hands back and break for the stairs. It would have been possible to do so, had Gibbs not landed a smack twice as hard as the previous ones in that moment. Joey let out a cry of pain and threw her hand back, forcing Gibbs to stop mid-stroke.

"Don't make me hold you down, Joey."

She slowly pulled her arm back under her head, her eyes glazed with tears.

Four more of equal force landed on her burning seat and Joey shut her eyes, buried her face in her arms, sobbing quietly.

"Do you understand?" Gibbs landed another stripe and Joey cried out again.

"Yeeeeees! I'm sorry! I understand!"

Satisfied, Gibbs grabbed her collar again and pulled her a bit farther over his leg so he could reach the tender sit-spot of her backside.

"Ow! **SMACK **Gibbs! **SMACK **Ahhh! I'm sorry! **SMACK** I won't do it again!

Joey hissed when the last smack landed.

Gibbs tossed the belt down on the couch and pulled her back to her feet. She was crying heavily, big tears rolling down her face, hair sweaty and messy from being buried in her arms. She subconsciously straightened out the chain around her neck and rubbed her face, still crying as she stood before him. Her butt was on fire.

"Joey, I don't set rules because I want you to be left out of exciting stuff that happens."

She nodded, sobbing and choking back tears.

"You remember what I told you last time you did this?"

Another unmistakable moaning sob escaped her jaws.

"Come here then." He ordered as he sat down on the couch.

Joey fumbled with the button of her jeans, knowing for certain he was going to make her drop them.

He pushed her hands away from her waist. "Leave them up." He said quietly as he pulled her over his lap. Joey didn't have time to be surprised.

**SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT**

Five times and Gibbs was done. He pulled her up to a standing position and stood himself.

"Upstairs." He commanded again.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she pivoted slowly and obeyed, her walk more of a sore swagger up the stairs and to her room.

Gibbs put his belt back on and rubbed his face again. With a resolve, he paced into the kitchen and reached into a drawer.

...

_It was terrible, utterly terrible. Not worth it, not worth it, not WORTH IT! Stupid Palmer and stupid bad guy. Damn the autopsy gremlin. She'd get him back, she would. _

Joey sobbed into the pillow of her bed, lying gingerly on her stomach.

The room was dark, save for the sliver of yellow light coming through the crack in the door. Her vision blurred as more salty tears flowed into her exhausted green eyes.

The sliver widened and a Gibbs-shaped void entered the yellow beam of light.

He paced over to her bed and set a few things down on her nightstand she couldn't see because she was facing away from him.

She felt the double bed sink a bit as he sat down on the edge.

"Come here." That was still an order, but it was subtle, and his tone was soft, almost soothing.

Joey carefully got up and walked around to his front side. He wiped some of her stray tears away with his thumb. She sniffed pitifully.

"Come here." That wasn't an order. It was an invitation.

And just like that she was in his arms, she knew it was over and done and she was forgiven, crying out the few tears she had left into his light blue shirt, her burning bottom the settled on his lap as she tried not to squirm from the unavoidable sting. He pulled her up, slipped a pillow onto his legs, and sat her back down.

Gibbs felt every muscle in her small body relax as she leaned into him. He carded a hand through her hair and gently massaged the back of her neck until the sobs subsided.

"Ssshhh..." he whispered, resting his chin on her head.

"I'm s-sorry..." she choked out the words in a whisper, but Gibbs put a finger to her lips.

"It's over, baby." He whispered back. "You're forgiven."

"It's n-not that..." she swallowed back clumps of tears.

He looked down at her and she met his soft blue eyes.

She smiled a bit and coughed out the last sob before laughing.

"Palmer is such a dork."

Gibbs swayed with the laughter and rocked her back and forth, knowing inside that that sentiment was her way of admitting the stupidity of her own actions.

"Time for bed, imp."

She yawned. "Not sleepy."

"Yeah?" He popped her under the chin. "Going down!" and he fell backwards on the bed, lifting her up in the air like a plane before letting her plop down on his chest.

"Ahhhh!" Joey shouted in pretend crash-and-burn, laughing and Gibbs tickled her sides.

"Nooooo, Gibbs...you're gonna make me peeeeee..."

He rolled her onto her back and put the pillow back under her head.

She winced involuntarily and he cocked his head.

"It still hurts..."

Gibbs stifled a smile when he saw her bottom lip sticking out in a classic pout-face.

"It's supposed to, kid." He ruffled her hair, placed his hands under her arms and lifted her up, sat down on the edge of the bed, and laid her over his lap.

Reaching back, he swiped the salve off of the nightstand and laid it on the bed beside him. Joey shivered when she felt the room's cool air hit her just-burning backside.

Gibbs gently smoothed the salve over her skin and felt her body sink a bit as she let out a shaky breath of relief.

Pulling her underwear back up and slipping off her jeans, he lifted her in his arms and laid her down in bed.

The sleepiness (even if she denied it) was beginning to flood Joey's mind and body. She nestled into the pillow and the blankets as her godfather pulled them up over her shoulders. He paced towards the door.

"Gibbs?" she called out in a whisper.

He re-approached her and sat down, rubbing a calloused palm down her face. Joey had closed her eyes. She smiled.

He stayed until she fell asleep.


End file.
